I hate to beat a dead horse. In fact I hate to beat anything, let alone a dead horse. What kind of a saying is that anyway? Now don’t get me wrong. Today I’m not writing about beating horses so you can just forget the opinion you’ve just formed that I’m a dead-animal-beater. I mean really, what’s wrong with you?
No, today’s blog is about how apropos my last blog was. You see, as I write this, I’m on a plane to Texas to meet my friend Sharon and help her unpack hundreds of boxes shipped from her and Jim’s previous home in Perth, Australia, to her current home outside Houston. Being the kind, considerate, thoughtful and giving person I am, I offered to help her unpack.
My first thought is: What the hell was I thinking? My second is: I can’t wait to get there. You see, it doesn’t matter what I’m doing with Sharon, it’s always fun. Whether we’re unpacking ridiculous amounts of household items she’s accumulated over the last 40 years or exploring the honky-tonk joints of downtown Nashville, we always have a great time.
Some people just feel like home, you know what I mean? Sort of like an old easy chair that molds to your body, enveloping you in soft comfort. To me, that’s Sharon.
But as usual, I digress…
Today’s blog is apropos because technology snafus continue to haunt me, not unlike the thought of Donald Trump being President. Because just as we were taking off, the plane suddenly stopped and the pilot announced we’re having “technical difficulties.” I thought, are you kidding me? Apparently they’re not. So some mechanics came out and fixed it. I hope.
My friend Annette, who hates to fly almost more than I hate Lima beans, would have a meltdown right here in row 9, seat B. Trust me, it wouldn’t be pretty.
And here I’d just finished texting Sharon that I was 2 for 2 this morning: (1) I received TSA PreCheck, avoiding long security check-in lines and (2) the flight isn’t full so we’re all spread out. For a moment there I forgot I’m jinxed. Silly me.
Suddenly the woman in the seat across from me began hacking like she’d swallowed an entire caterpillar, not just part of one. Fifty open seats and I get the one person with pneumonia or perhaps swine flu.
My table tray is having technical difficulties as well. It’s refusing to lie flat so I’m slope-writing. It’s an actual saying; you can look it up. Anyway, I’m afraid if I tilt my seat back, I’ll end up in the lap of the man behind me. Therefore I’ll be sitting upright the entire 3 1/2 hour flight.
Scratch that. I just took a peek at the guy behind me and I gotta say I actually wouldn’t mind a seat-back malfunction. So here goes…
Okay, I have good news and bad news. The good: my seat back is working fine. The bad: my seat back is working fine. Hold the phone. (Another curious saying.) The captain is telling us (not kidding) to brace ourselves for the “bumps” we’re now experiencing. Bumps?! Holy crap.
Anyway, I hope I make it to Sharon’s. I suppose if you’re reading this, I did. But I AM tempting fate by daring to drink airplane water. It tastes like rusty nails (not that I’ve tasted those). But I’d feel too guilty handing the flight attendant a full cup to toss. Why? Because I’m a kind, considerate, thoughtful and giving person.
Weren’t you paying attention?
PS…for those who actually looked up slope-writing, I lied.